Idle and Blessed

It's a shame fresh starts are only officially once a year. They're really my favorite things, I think. Maybe it's part of my OCD. I love clean slates like I love clean rooms and organized drawers. Fresh starts are the clean lines of life. They make the mess go away. At least, they're supposed to. And since I'm a big fan of self-discipline, they usually do. I can stick with a diet, I can stick with a running schedule, I can stick with a clean kitchen and rules and plans. But I feel like there are just some seasons of change that don't come on January 1. My fresh start already started. My new job, new post-grad plans, new pet. My hair is already on its way to blonde, I already went vegetarian, and I'm already increasing my running mileage each week. They are good changes. I don't have trouble making changes, really. It's just not on January 1 this time. This New Year's Eve I'm not dreaming up new ways to change for the better...

My life looks almost nothing like it did six weeks ago. I'm not managing Simply anymore; I've lost some friends and gained others. I have a full tuition scholarship to a Divinity School I had never heard of. I'm no longer considering taking a year off after Belmont, and my time in Nashville is wrapping up almost without my permission. Five months till I'm a college graduate. Oh, and I have a kitten. I work at Pure Barre. It's not Pilates and it's not "my" studio, but I feel comfortable there and I'm happy to be in that environment. Not to mention I'll be in killer shape from working out there. :) I feel like I'm in a position of discerning what I want. I'm learning myself. Learning what I rejoice over and what gives me life, as well as what drains me of motivation and purpose. I believe in Pilates and fitness, and I'm good at managing studios. I like it. I have a passion for theology and ethics. I don't get tired of learni...

She is just as needy as I am. She is just as hungry as I am. She is just as helpless as I am. So, she’s my kitten. That’s that. She’s also the person I used to be. She lives with excitement in her eyes. She’s also everyone I can’t love because they are too much for me. She smothers me. She’s needy. She needs everything from me at all hours of the day. She knows no boundaries. And should she? She’s a baby. She sees no separation yet between herself and me. I can’t accept people like that. It’s very hard for me to extend compassion and patience to those who don’t allow me my independence. Very hard for me to care for someone who smothers. And yet, I’m her mother. We make it, day by day. It’s a spiritual exercise for me in not killing the things that make me angry. Not pushing away the things that are needy toward me. Not choosing when to give love and when to withhold it. It is therapy to take care of something so helpless when you’re helpless y...

I hope you find what you're looking for someday.

"She's a real good cat, loves to play!" I was kneeling, my body inches from the concrete, looking up at her as I tried my best to operate an air compressor. Jenny was leaving for St. Louis and we were filling her tires with air, preoccupied with PSI numbers and the man who tried to come to our rescue but knew less about tire pressure than I did. "Oh...where'd you find her?" I keep filling the tire. 30 PSI to go. "I didn't find her, I had her since she was born. But I can't keep her no more..." And we're at a gas station, no less. I forget about the tire and stand up, crossing the six foot gap between us. A half second later I'm standing with a gray fur ball in my hands. Not sure how that happened, but somehow I knew it was already too late. "I have to leave her here, can't take her with me. You want her?" the lady mumbles. "Um, ok, well...I guess I can take her. I mean, I want her, sure....

I cry hard, laugh loud. I'm humble, I stand proud. I hold onto my faith with all my heart. I'm careful, I'm brave. I'm still, but don't stay in any one place for too long. I remember God's grace, I give more than I take. I let love break my heart. And all of this, I wish for you. {lyrics: Jessica Andrews}

I don't understand how God works. I sit on the asphalt under a streetlight and Sarah holds me together, picking up the pieces. I drive my car slow, with the windows down to feel the 35 degree air. I lay down with my kitten next to me and she sleeps the day away. It's not my job to understand. I skip some classes and drink coffee, thanking God the sun exists. I take more time than usual to talk to good friends in quiet voices. I do what I need to do, then I run a few miles or eight.  I cannot reconcile ultimate things. I check twitter a thousand times each day. I don't wait for God to speak from the sky; I notice the hidden things. I burn incense and walk dogs in the rain, and I speak when I have something to say. The trees are red and the sky is blue and sometimes the windows fog up at night. Winter is coming. It's Jesus' job to reconcile. I am a new creature every day yet also the same. I feel everything and know nothing. Experien...

The storm is coming but I don't mind People are dying, I close my blinds All that I know is I'm breathing now I want to change the world Instead I sleep I want to believe in more than you and me But all that I know is I'm breathing All I can do is keep breathing All we can do is keep breathing now All that I know is I'm breathing All I can do is keep breathing. All we can do is keep breathing  All we can do is keep breathing All we can do is keep breathing All we can do is keep breathing All we can do is keep breathing All we can do is keep breathing now -Ingrid Michaelson

The great Paul Tillich is not my best friend. I don't read his theology much for fun. But the words below move me, and for once I walk away from Tillich refreshed... Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness. It strikes us when we walk through the dark valley of a meaningless and empty life. It strikes us when we feel that our separation is deeper than usual, because we have violated another life, a life which we loved, or from which we were estranged. It strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our indifference, our weakness, our hostility, and our lack of direction and composure have become intolerable to us. It strikes us when, year after year, the longed-for perfection of life does not appear, when the old compulsions reign within us as they have for decades, when despair destroys all joy and courage. Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying: “You are accepted. You are accepted, acc...

Fall is the best time of year. I won't listen to any objections about this; it just is. It's sunny and crisp and revitalized and cozy. Driving long distances seems more like a hobby than drudgery, with the windows cracked and new music on the radio and the peaceful feeling of knowing things are slowing down for the winter. In the fall I am much more aware of beauty, but I can't explain why. The smells of cinnamon and pumpkin, the sight of candles burning, the feel of soft sweaters and the still-slightly-warm sun...everything catches my attention in a way that's so different from other times of year. But the thing that grabs me most often in autumn is the colors on the trees. The yellow ones. You know, the ones you just stare at because you can't believe they're that yellow? I run by them and under them. And I look up into them and almost can't take it in, because when I look away again I never remember quite how yellow they are. And so every tree ha...

There are types of weather and types of places and certain musical genres that lend themselves to creativity, and I've been around none of them lately. But when I settle into my chair by the window in room 400, where we sometimes go for Psychology of Religion class, and Dr. Curtis starts to read his poems for the day, I close my eyes and remember I was made to create. I write. It's not the primary thing I do, but I write. And I've had plenty of blog posts stirring in me this semester that haven't made their way into my fingers simply because the primary things have been demanding. Work at the studio. Homework for sociology. Reading entire books in a day for Colloquium. Translating the book of Jonah. On to Job. Applying to 5 Divinity Schools. Visiting McAfee with Mom and interviewing for a merit scholarship with THE David Gushee. Running races. Training for next season. Writing a couple papers per week. You get the picture. But then there's the moments of cla...

We run away from each other, us humans. We flee because we are unknown and because we are afraid to be known. We flee the reflections of ourselves we see in others, because it's the things we hate in ourselves we most hate in those closest to us. Life is a test to see if we can stay put more than we run. If we can want to be known by someone more than we want to be safe. If we can look another person in the eye day after day, in wealth and poverty, sickness and health, and say, "This is who I am." And if someone can do that to us, if we can look them in the eye too, and say, "I see." What makes a runner ok with staying put? What makes us ready to know and be known? How are two people ready at the same time? I think all of us want to pulled in by someone. I just don't know if we all want it enough to stop being afraid and let it happen. And if any of us are strong enough to watch someone struggle to stay put, waiting for them. Ready for them. Prom...

i think about religion in terms of research papers, mostly. when others hear a sermon, i hear doctrines, theologies, greek, hebrew, editors, church history, connections to sociology, hauerwas' ecclesiology, rauschenbusch's social gospel, the enlightenment, the west, the east, the contemplatives, centuries of developments to get us here... i think about spirituality in terms of reflective essay assignments. when others talk about ministry, i hear methods, motivations, doctrinal assertions, assumptions about systems of injustice, implications like gentrification on poor communities... its good. i hear this is the time for it. i think deeply and care deeply and am in awe of this thing I study and love. but my mind is full and my heart must catch up. in developing a gift there is a time to act and a time to stop acting. gifts are not at our whim and cannot be forced. if my gift is guiding others toward their spiritual growth, there's a time for me to let the gift re...

the lesson of the moth by don marquis i was talking to a moth the other evening he was trying to break into an electric light bulb and fry himself on the wires why do you fellows pull this stunt i asked him because it is the conventional thing for moths or why if that had been an uncovered candle instead of an electric light bulb you would now be a small unsightly cinder have you no sense plenty of it he answered but at times we get tired of using it we get bored with the routine and crave beauty and excitement fire is beautiful and we know that if we get too close it will kill us but what does that matter it is better to be happy for a moment and be burned up with beauty than to live a long time and be bored all the while so we wad all our life up into one little roll and then we shoot the roll that is what life is for it is better to be a part of beauty for one instant and then cease to exist than to exist forever and never be a part of beauty...

Kitten purring on my lap. Soft traffic out the front windows. Thinking about all the places grace touches, and how it doesn't shrink back at our pain. Grace gently says you're enough now . It boldly says you're free now . No matter how messy things get, no matter how ugly those raw parts of our hearts are. Grace stops us in our tracks because it not only says you're ok again... it also says you're not going to stop there. The smallest blessings of grace are often the greatest and sustain us best. A breeze on the porch. The quiet chatter in our heads as we run a few miles at dawn. The presence of one or two soul friends in a desert of disconnection. A cup of coffee. A timely Proverb. Fresh basil. Children and swings and feelings of freedom. The coming of fall in the air as we turn our face toward the sun. In these we feel God pressing into us... grace . And it is everywhere in our ordinary. Trust. In these graces, in these comings of heaven to earth, we...

Go To The Limits of Your Longing by Rainer Maria Rilke God speaks to each of us as he makes us, then walks with us silently out of the night. These are the words we dimly hear: You, sent out beyond your recall, go to the limits of your longing. Embody me. Flare up like a flame and make big shadows I can move in. Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final. Don't let yourself lose me. Nearby is the country they call life. You will know it by its seriousness. Give me your hand.

The Hebrew phrase "formless and void," used in Genesis 1 to describe the earth as God began to create, is תֹהוּ וָבֹהוּ  ("tohu vabohu"). It rhymes and it's poetic, like all of the creation account in the Hebrew language. In fact, it rhymes a little too well. "Tohu vabohu." Dr. McEntire says it seems like a phrase someone made up to play with words. And Dr. Mc knows a lot about Hebrew and Aramaic. He says it seems like something Dr. Seuss would do. Make two words that rhyme like that and describe something unique and then those two words get absorbed into the Hebrew language and used elsewhere. The Germans took the phrase "tohu vabohu" and started using it in their language. Maybe the Hebrews did that too, in the first place. Maybe the writer of Genesis was an ancient Hebrew Dr. Seuss. So it means "formless and void," but when you read it in Hebrew it's poetry and it's beauty, and who know what it would mean outs...

Have you heard of that book "When Helping Hurts?" And all those new ideas emerging about Christian missions and community development? A lot of people are jumping on board with it, and I think it's just fantastic. The guy who wrote that book says we should be asking people what their dreams are. Instead of giving them material goods, we should be honoring them as people and giving them the tools they need to succeed for themselves. He says we should ask them "what are your dreams?" and "what are the obstacles keeping you from your dreams?" The whole idea is to empower people in materially poor cultures to thrive in their own right, not simply as recipients of charity. I have a story to tell which comes to mind each time I talk about these ideas. When I was in Russia two summers ago, living with the Kvashens (this is them:), I decided one day to climb a mountain. The boys and I did this a couple times that summer, along with the Kutsenko k...

Things have been happening pretty quickly around here. New semester, new responsibilities, new opportunities. We even have a new kitten. Long story. But it's good to be back in the classroom again. I'm like a fish back in water, my mom said. Translating Hebrew, talking about world religions, studying Scripture and philosophy. When I'm back in school I feel like this is only the beginning. Belmont has helped me ask questions, helped me deform and melt down, opened me to begin building on my foundation again. I really believe Divinity School is next for me. I've learned to be critical of everything; now it's time to trust a belief system again. Other religion majors will understand this, and everyone else might be really confused. Apologies. But since it's my senior year (too soon in a lot of ways), I've been thinking back to when I first got here, and the things I wish I would've known then. I know I'm a different person than I was at 18, when...

Jesus, when you asked us to take the bread and wine in remembrance, did you think we'd forget? Could we possibly forget the work of the cross, this central point of our existence? We stand amazed. And yet, there's something so powerful and intricately necessary in remembering - proclaiming! - in each season of life. Again in this day, and this day, and in this . Each new season, each new year, no matter where we are or what we're fighting or how strongly we are doubting, we take communion in these seats. It's a symbol of how true this salvation is in every area and for all the people. No matter what. "This is my body, broken for you." For the "you" you are today. "This is the new covenant in my blood, poured out for you." A covenant of love, for you. "Take and eat...do this in remembrance of me." Not that we would forget Jesus, but that we'd forget Jesus died for our now and our today . Eat and drink, ...

I had a dream last night that I was back in Dombai. I was talking to one of the Americans, trying to explain something about the lifts that go up the mountain. They're ski lifts, I guess, except it's summertime so we don't ski. Actually there are a lot of reasons we don't ski. But I digress. I was trying to explain something about them but I couldn't remember how to say it in English. I just kept saying the word in Russian, because that's all I could come up with. And as fervently as I repeated the word in Russian, they weren't understanding me, and I was stuck behind a language burier yet again. And this time with English speakers. Since I got back from Russia I've been thinking a lot about my future involvement there. This year I see a bit of a separation forming between the past seven years and the future. I feel like I'm on the edge of whatever is on the horizon, because I'm graduating college in May and from there my life will inevitably...